I have just finished reading Jeffrey Steingarten's It Must Have Been Something I Ate, the third in my too-much-food trilogy. Though I have a habit of flying through books, I spent a long time reading this, as I did when I read Steingarten's first book.
And, as with his first book, now that I'm finished, I feel weird. On one hand, it's an amazing book: funny, incredibly well-written, entertaining, and full of food trivia. I'm a little sad that I've finished it, but I loved it.
On the other hand, however, I feel totally overwhelmed. While reading Steingarten inspired me to write about food in the first place, reading more Steingarten made me realize just how little I know about food. And that I really need to find my copy of Strunk and White.
I keep reminding myself that Steingarten is probably about twice my age. He's had the time to taste so many foods, to read so many books about food, to absorb so much knowledge about history, science, and culture. And to become a better writer by, well, writing. But wow. He is just so good. I am just so intimidated.
But what is it they say? Writers write? And I suppose that food writers eat. So, on that note, I think my best next move is...to have lunch.